February 8th, OE 102
2:30 PM DST
L2-Luna Space Corridor
Albatross Class "Abraham"
"...and so, as you can see Director Khatri, our people are merely humble refugees."
It had been a rushed, impromptu meeting, thought the Director. Formal looking decor had hurriedly been thrown about their best quarters to receive the "Guests", with no idea of what they could expect.
What could you expect from "First Contact", really?
Across from him say Meyven Madin, the alien medals on his chest gleaming in the light almost as brightly as his smile. From what he had gathered so far, the man would normally look quite different but... The aliens had some kind of technology that reconfigured their bodies to communicate with other organisms en route to their planet? Absolutely astounding - and if he didn't have the proof before him, he never would have believed it.
A Sikh man of middle age with a thick-set jaw, stocky in stature and long in beard, he blinked skeptically from behind his glasses as he scratched away at his paper. Some would have preferred the digital accoutrements, but he was a traditionalist - even surrounded as the two were by countless holographic charts, images and the like. He raised his pen airily, jabbing at a diagram of the Uyudaro Class ship that was home to the aformentioned refugees, frozen in cryo-stasis.
"Is that, Mister Meyven, why your ship has a massive cannon on the front of it?" He asked, uncertainly.
The Meyven nodded, having expected this question.
"...We didn't have the liberty of choice, Director." He said with a shake of his head.
"I believe the Earth expression is "Any port in a storm?" ...The weapon system can be disabled if we are required to do so."
He sighed. Although it was a concession he had been warned not to make, as it was well known there were powerful pockets of anti-Alien sentiment among the local populace... If it would ensure peace, he would take accountability.
"All we seek is for our people to be resettled. To give our children lives of peace, much like your own." He pressed; "We have much to share with you..."
The Meyven extended a hand, solemnly.
"...If you are willing to take my hand in friendship."
It hung there in the air, regarded quietly by Khatri. Clearing his throat, the Director rose, gathering his notepad, giving Madin a glance as he did, saying:
"I must first verify with my superiors, but..."
Ah. Perhaps he had been presumptuous. Still, Madin felt a lump in his throat momentarily, as disappointment began to set in-
But was surprised to feel the warmth of a palm against his own, as Khatri met his grip. His own features were warm and genuine, as he said firmly:
"We shall do what we can."
Madin could barely hear his own thoughts over the din of chattering cameras, and the sudden clamor of the assembled press fell upon him like the most triumphant roar.
Hiryu Kai Main Bridge
"Sounds like negotiations are going well."
Captain Harris reclined in her - now official Captain's chair, picking happily away at her lunchbox. Life was good, she thought - despite running full tilt into the Directory main fleet, somehow nobody had managed to get hurt. Both their own fleet, comprised of the Uyudaro Class and the Hiryu, and the Directory's six Albatross Class battleships were comfortably side by side, and all was quiet. Even better, Director Khatri had apologized for the earlier matter with Admiral Benton - and as a sign of good faith, had placed her in charge of cleaning up the Directory's Space Forces, placing her formally in command of the Hiryu.
"Can you believe this, Mister Cicero?"
"Hmph."
The blonde Colonist looked upon the scenery with a little more skepticism than the Captain, his own thoughts elsewhere as he ran a hand across his waves of blonde hair, causing her shoulder to sink in disappointment.
As an Agent of the Circle, this was what he had worked to lay the groundwork for. Of course, he thought, despite some... unexpected interruptions from the Lamalice and those terrorists from the "other side", all things considered it had gone off without a hitch. Now, he wondered...
What was to become of him, now that his purpose, his function, was complete?
Would he meet the same end as others who knew more than they needed to?
To be decommissioned...?
"Ack."
He gave a small yelp as a pair of chopsticks jabbed into his side, Harris glaring up at him irritably.
"Hey. If you want to be a killjoy, go do it somewhere else. After everything we've been through, a little peace is what we all need."
Cicero only gave her a sad, strange smile as he turned to leave, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Yes." He said quietly, the elevator doors closing behind to leave him peace as he watched his own reflection.
"I suppose it is."
2:30 PM DST
L2-Luna Space Corridor
Albatross Class "Abraham"
"...and so, as you can see Director Khatri, our people are merely humble refugees."
It had been a rushed, impromptu meeting, thought the Director. Formal looking decor had hurriedly been thrown about their best quarters to receive the "Guests", with no idea of what they could expect.
What could you expect from "First Contact", really?
Across from him say Meyven Madin, the alien medals on his chest gleaming in the light almost as brightly as his smile. From what he had gathered so far, the man would normally look quite different but... The aliens had some kind of technology that reconfigured their bodies to communicate with other organisms en route to their planet? Absolutely astounding - and if he didn't have the proof before him, he never would have believed it.
A Sikh man of middle age with a thick-set jaw, stocky in stature and long in beard, he blinked skeptically from behind his glasses as he scratched away at his paper. Some would have preferred the digital accoutrements, but he was a traditionalist - even surrounded as the two were by countless holographic charts, images and the like. He raised his pen airily, jabbing at a diagram of the Uyudaro Class ship that was home to the aformentioned refugees, frozen in cryo-stasis.
"Is that, Mister Meyven, why your ship has a massive cannon on the front of it?" He asked, uncertainly.
The Meyven nodded, having expected this question.
"...We didn't have the liberty of choice, Director." He said with a shake of his head.
"I believe the Earth expression is "Any port in a storm?" ...The weapon system can be disabled if we are required to do so."
He sighed. Although it was a concession he had been warned not to make, as it was well known there were powerful pockets of anti-Alien sentiment among the local populace... If it would ensure peace, he would take accountability.
"All we seek is for our people to be resettled. To give our children lives of peace, much like your own." He pressed; "We have much to share with you..."
The Meyven extended a hand, solemnly.
"...If you are willing to take my hand in friendship."
It hung there in the air, regarded quietly by Khatri. Clearing his throat, the Director rose, gathering his notepad, giving Madin a glance as he did, saying:
"I must first verify with my superiors, but..."
Ah. Perhaps he had been presumptuous. Still, Madin felt a lump in his throat momentarily, as disappointment began to set in-
But was surprised to feel the warmth of a palm against his own, as Khatri met his grip. His own features were warm and genuine, as he said firmly:
"We shall do what we can."
Madin could barely hear his own thoughts over the din of chattering cameras, and the sudden clamor of the assembled press fell upon him like the most triumphant roar.
Hiryu Kai Main Bridge
"Sounds like negotiations are going well."
Captain Harris reclined in her - now official Captain's chair, picking happily away at her lunchbox. Life was good, she thought - despite running full tilt into the Directory main fleet, somehow nobody had managed to get hurt. Both their own fleet, comprised of the Uyudaro Class and the Hiryu, and the Directory's six Albatross Class battleships were comfortably side by side, and all was quiet. Even better, Director Khatri had apologized for the earlier matter with Admiral Benton - and as a sign of good faith, had placed her in charge of cleaning up the Directory's Space Forces, placing her formally in command of the Hiryu.
"Can you believe this, Mister Cicero?"
"Hmph."
The blonde Colonist looked upon the scenery with a little more skepticism than the Captain, his own thoughts elsewhere as he ran a hand across his waves of blonde hair, causing her shoulder to sink in disappointment.
As an Agent of the Circle, this was what he had worked to lay the groundwork for. Of course, he thought, despite some... unexpected interruptions from the Lamalice and those terrorists from the "other side", all things considered it had gone off without a hitch. Now, he wondered...
What was to become of him, now that his purpose, his function, was complete?
Would he meet the same end as others who knew more than they needed to?
To be decommissioned...?
"Ack."
He gave a small yelp as a pair of chopsticks jabbed into his side, Harris glaring up at him irritably.
"Hey. If you want to be a killjoy, go do it somewhere else. After everything we've been through, a little peace is what we all need."
Cicero only gave her a sad, strange smile as he turned to leave, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"Yes." He said quietly, the elevator doors closing behind to leave him peace as he watched his own reflection.
"I suppose it is."